


When a terrorist becomes a kid

by AnkiKind



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Comforting John, Crying, Daddy John?, Diapers, Dummies, Fluff and Angst, Infantilism, Little!Moriarty, Moriarty needs a hug, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Public Accidents, Wetting, more Fluff than Angst actually, nappies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 09:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10828908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnkiKind/pseuds/AnkiKind
Summary: Moriarty is picked up and brought to the yard where Lestrade, John and Sherlock make an interesting and disturbing discovery.When Mycroft arrives to explain the situation John becomes a little protective.





	When a terrorist becomes a kid

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot after I watched some old Sherlock episodes recently and I couldn't stop thinking about 'nice' Moriarty.
> 
> English is not my first language so I'm very sorry for poor phrasing, grammar or spelling errors. If you stumble across one I would be glaf if you told me and I can resolve them.

His hair was done neatly but his eyes showed nothing of the genius psychopath terrorist. They seemed unfocused and there seemed to be something in them that Greg Lestrade had never seen in them before – fear. He had only seen Moriarty a couple of minutes. But it was enough to recognize the man and realize he wasn’t fit for this job on his own. When Donavan had told him that a probably drunken banker had been picked up and that Lestrade definitely wanted to take a look at that person he had trusted Donavan’s judgment but hadn’t actually expected it to be the world’s first and only consulting criminal. He had texted John in the hope that the man compared to Sherlock would read and answer his text.

“Greg texted” John managed to say a few seconds after he had picked up the ringing mobile phone. “Who?” “Lestrade” “Why would that be of any concern for me” Sherlock as always didn’t even pretend to be interested, not looking up once from the microscope he was occupied with at the moment. “They have Moriarty. He’s at the yard” John hadn’t nearly finished his sentence while Sherlock was already dressed and headed out of the flat. 

When they looked through the mirror into the interrogation room they had expected to see the psychopath standing bored or leaning on the wall, shooting them a knowing look, smiling with a psychopathic glance in the eyes. Instead they were surprised to not see Moriarty standing or even sitting. He was cowered into one corner of the room his knees brought close to his chest.  
Streaks of tears were visible on his cheeks. His hair still looked well-groomed hair but the expensive suit he was wearing was in no good shape. The suit-jacket looked wrinkled-up while the shirt had stains that looked like grass and soil on them. The shape his clothes were in probably was the reason for the stash of clothes placed on the table.

“What happened?”, John managed to ask after he had taken in the scenery being utterly confused. “Some constables picked him up in the middle of Hyde Park. He was anxious and had wet his pants. They thought he was a drunken banker or something but Donavan made sure he was brought here as she found out who they had picked up.”  
Now that John took a closer look at the suit pants he could see the dark patch in the crotch area. “Has he spoken to anyone?” John seemed to slowly get in the doctor mode being confused by the difference in behaviour but still aware at the back of his head that Moriarty was able to fake everything if he just wanted to. Even if the terrorist looked hurt in John’s mind he was still capable of killing them in an instant.  
“No. As soon as anyone gets near him he tries to get further away. He didn’t recognize me. I thought he might one of you” Lestrade stated sounding hopeful and hoped he didn’t push things too far. He knew that Moriarty had almost killed both John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. “Are you sure he’s not staging everything?” John asked not willing to spend a lot of time in the presence of Moriarty. “I’m not. This is why there will be a constable in the room if one of you decides to go in there.” Lestrade assured.

“Has my brother shown up, yet?”, Sherlock asked pulling both his index fingers to his mouth as if he was thinking about something. John was actually surprised to hear him speak. Sherlock had remained silent so far and John had seen the look of curiosity on Sherlock’s face. It almost appeared as if Sherlock desperately wanted to go in the interrogation room where his archenemy was sitting. “Not so...” Lestrade rolled his eyes when he saw the elder Holmes approaching them this instant.   
“Ah brother mine, I see you already made it” Mycroft said not greeting either Greg or John.   
“Mycroft, why are you here?” John asked feeling that the older Holmes wouldn’t show up if it wasn’t necessary and considering the fact they had only been here 5 minutes before him it must be really urgent.  
“Because he has made Moriarty into this, haven’t you brother?” Sherlock said, smirking a little, his eyes still focusing on the man at the other end of the mirror. 

“Is that true?” John’s eyes were wide in shock. Instead of answering Mycroft remained silent while Sherlock started to state the, in his eyes, obvious signs.  
“Needle marks, probably from an IV on the left arm, fresh tear strikes on both cheeks and his chin still wobbles from time to time, bitten nails that were perfectly manicured before and he has circlet his lips four times now with his thumb. He wants to suck on it but is obviously afraid to do so. You regressed him, didn’t you?” Sherlock’s eyes were full of amazement.  
“The government has a high interest in keeping high potential criminals under control. That is all that I can say on this behalf.” Mycroft stated.

“What does regressed mean?” Lestrade asked feeling that in this yard he was still the one in charge of the terrorist.   
“They tried to make him a child emotionally so he would adapt childlike behaviours. Maybe they even tried to erase his memories.” Sherlock explained.  
“So he is retarded now?” Lestrade’s voice was pitiful yet uncertain.  
“No” Mycroft stated shocked of the accusation that was made.  
“So you wanted to re-program him?” John asked, with a reproachful tone in his voice. Even if Moriarty had deserved to be locked up for the rest of his life being treated with drugs as a lab animal was beyond every ethical understanding that John had.  
“As I said before there is an interest to keep him at bay and this was obviously achieved.” Mycroft replied.

John looked at the little bundle in the room again feeling something that was close to pity for the man. “When he is sitting there in wet clothes and you put fresh ones on the table why hasn’t he dressed himself, yet?” he wondered.  
“Maybe because he knows we can see him” Lestrade suggested figuring himself in that situation. Moriarty was probably aware that they could see him through the mirror.  
“Haven’t you listened?” Sherlock sounded annoyed like always and John was afraid that he knew the answer already. “He isn’t dressing himself because he can’t. He is regressed. They took his memories his abilities to do the simplest things. What is he, three years?” Sherlock asked his brother not trying to hide the curiosity in his voice.   
“Almost four. He remembers little things although we can’t pin it down to exact memories. From what I see his ability to keep his pants dry might have gone with the treatment.” Mycroft smirked.

John wanted to retort something to Mycroft underlying his disapproval of the situation instead his gaze went to Sherlock who looked through the mirror the curiosity in his eyes now replaced with longing. It was equivalent to the eyes of a kid that saw a puppy in a pet shop – an object to play and to bond with.  
To John, miserable self or not Moriarty still was a threat. He couldn’t picture how the abilities of Moriarty could have disappeared entirely.  
“How do we know that he is not faking this? That he isn’t a threat” John addressed Mycroft hoping that he as the person who most certainly commanded the treatment would have a way of telling.  
“You cannot be. I am certain that his behaviour is genuine but it is quite difficult to find out what memories he still has.”  
“That is not enough. He said he ‘enjoyed playing Jim from IT’ when he kidnapped me. Maybe he enjoys playing ‘little Moriarty’, too” John stated.

“Someone needs to finally talk to that whimpering mess in there. If he isn’t faking this he must be horrified.” Lestrade interrupted John’s line of thought showing affection for the man. As long as Mycroft’s remarks were true there was a grown-man sitting in that room that had the mind of a four year old child.   
“Then who shall confront him?” Mycroft asked.  
“Maybe the man who put him in this position” Sherlock suggested, smiling slightly already sure that his brother wouldn’t want to get in there.   
“I would be of no use. Kids don’t react well in my presence besides I prefer to get not involved too much.“  
“He didn’t recognize me and shied away as from all the others” Lestrade said hasty to make sure that he was not the one in charge of the terrorist. He would be happy to make one of the Holmes boys go inside and deal with Moriarty. On the other side he knew that if Moriarty was faking everything he still was a high risk and as far as he was concerned everyone on this side of the mirror had been threatened by Moriarty directly or indirectly.

“Would Sherlock be a good first try?“ John asked with no strength in his voice. Mycroft and Lestrade were already ruled out and he knew Sherlock was unfit but he tried everything to be the person that did not have to go in there.  
“If Moriarty has the mind-set of a child right now I don’t believe he is going to react well” (Mycroft said. John smiled at that slightly.   
“I can deal excellent with children” Sherlock stated.  
“Who are not in the morgue?” John retorted.  
Sherlock remained silent.  
All eyes landed on John again. He didn’t want to go in there to the person who had tried to kill him. On the other hand Mycroft was in the picture so it was highly doubtable that he would die in this yard.  
“Okay fine. I’m going but I don’t want a constable in there with me. If Moriarty is faking this someone with a weapon in that room would be an increased risk of me and the policeman ending up dead. If he’s not faking it he would be more mortified by two strangers than by one.”  
Lestrade nodded in approval and John went to see Sherlock’s nemesis.

“Hey there” John greeted unsure if this was a good way to address Moriarty who tried to become one with the wall behind him as John entered the interrogation room his eyes wide in shock and fear. “No, don’t shy away. I’m here to help you” John crouched down to be at eye level with the man. He looked for any injuries except for the needle marks that Sherlock had already mentioned but couldn’t find any, mostly because Moriarty hid his face in his knees. John heard large sniffles escape the bundle in front of him. He couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the man in front of him that looked more like a boy. Despite all facts, all the killing he wanted to protect this boy. “I’m Dr. John Watson. Do you remember me?”, his voice was gentle, almost a whisper as if he was talking to a kid that needed a band-aid or had a broken arm. Moriarty looked up, his face a mess of tears. The man in front of him furrowed his brow, looking like there was something familiar to the name but that he couldn’t pin it down. “I.. I don’t know” he managed to say, his voice cracking as it seemed he was scared that he should remember the person in front of him. John knew he had to act quickly to keep the conversation alive.  
“Don’t mind, lad. What is your name?” he cooed. “James but I like Jim better.” The Irish answered with an audible lump in his throat. “Those clothes of yours look dirty, Jim. Shall we get you into a pair of fresh pants?” Moriarty looked down between his chest and his knees in embarrassment and John could see fresh tears well up in the man’s eyes. 

John didn’t want to touch that man. He remembered the time in the swimming pool. He could still feel the weight of the vest of explosives but these tears that were rolling down the boy’s cheeks needed to be undone. He moved one hand next to Moriarty’s face afraid that he would shy away if he got closer but he didn’t. John gently swiped away the fresh tears with his thumb. “Nothing to cry about. Now, how about we put you in the nice sweatpants over there?” The boy managed a nod and John rubbed his arm reassuringly.  
When James Moriarty stood up there was a fresh puddle on the floor where he had sat. No wonder the man had started crying.  
John could see the shattered look on Moriarty’s face. Even if the man in front of him was about an inch taller he seemed to be so much younger and smaller.

“No need to be upset. We’ll clean you up and everything is going to be okay.”  
Since Sherlock had stated that Moriarty wasn’t able to dress himself John figured he would also not be able to un-dress himself.   
He first directed Moriarty out of the puddle and next to the table starting to get Moriarty out of the Jacket and the shirt figuring if the taller man did notice that nothing bad happened he wouldn’t cause him any trouble when they were changing his pants. As soon as the short was unbuttoned John grabbed the T-shirt that was in top of the pile of clothes and instructed Moriarty to straighten his arms at the front of his chest so John could slip the T-shirt over him. Then he undid the belt of Moriarty’s pants and gently pulled down the trousers and underwear down. He immediately grabbed the undies and the sweatpants and told Moriarty to step in them. Looking at the man John had just seen in a very expensive suit Moriarty seemed so ordinary now. The grey sweatpants fitted perfectly while the plane blue shirt was a bit big.   
“So, Jim, I’m going to talk to some friends. How about, you sit down here.”  
“Will you come back, Dr. John Watson?”, his voice was barely a whisper but full of hope that his new friend would return.  
John had to clear his throat. “Of course I will.”

When John had exited the room he took a deep breath. He had survived.  
“John, that was impressive. You’re really good with kids.” Lestrade said, relived that the person that was officially in his custody seemed to be well.   
“So, Dr. Watson what do you think is he faking it?” Mycroft asked.  
“I don’t know. He did a bloody good job the last time and I don’t think I could tell for sure but for me it seemed genuine.”  
They looked at the man, now sitting at the table, kicking his legs and continuously playing with his right thumb around his mouth. “I’m next” Sherlock suddenly exclaimed excitement in his voice and had already exited the observation room they stood in before anyone could object.  
“Is this a bloody game for him?” John asked.

“Do you know who I am?” Sherlock asked, the door just closed. “I don’t remember your name. But you made me happy and sad, I think” “I’m Sherlock” Moriarty said nothing in return, his face showing no recognition at the name. “Why don’t you tell me your name?” Sherlock sounded patient. “Because you already know it.” Sherlock raised one of his eyebrows at that. “Is that so?” “You’re a friend of Dr. John Watson.” “What makes you believe that?” “There are hairs of his on your anorak sleeve. You share a flat and you use the same things for washing your hair. And you don’t look as if you have a relationship” “That is a big word for a little man” Moriarty just shrugged his shoulders.  
Then all of a sudden Sherlock did something that John had hoped and feared he would do. He shouted. He became aggressive accusing Moriarty of all that he had done and things that he hadn’t done just to get the true Moriarty out. John must admit he had a hard time not rushing into the interrogation room. Moriarty had started to cry, covering his ears and ball himself up on that chair as best as possible. Sherlock towered over him until he suddenly stopped and left the room without further addressing Moriarty.

John had to swallow. “Don’t worry, John. James Moriarty is going to be fine.” Mycroft said with a compassionate voice. “Sherlock had to do this to feel safe around him.”  
“He still has a sharp mind.” Sherlock stated when he was back in the observation room “but someone as emotionally unstable as Moriarty would have probably snapped out of his role as soon as I made wrong assumptions and accusations.”

“So what now?” John asked, still a little shaken by Sherlock’s shouting.  
“Well he can’t stay here” Lestrade quickly pointed.   
“He needs to be in governmental watch. No one knows if he is still a threat.” John said to Mycroft.  
“There is no governmental institution that can fit the needs of a four-year old. I think he would be best of under your supervision” Mycroft said.  
“This is the person that tried to kill John and me” Sherlock nearly screamed. John was actually surprised. Sherlock had just stated that he believed Moriarty wasn’t faking his behaviour but he still seemed to be upset by Mycroft to put him in this position.  
“As I am the cleverer one I am aware of that” Mycroft retorted. “Still, your care probably provides the most comfort for him at this point. He already seems to be attached to John Watson. I will arrange everything.”

When Moriarty started to look anxious John clenched his fists together at the side of his legs.  
“You can care for him, John. He won’t harm you, again.” Mycroft assured seeing the look on John’s face showing affection but also the fear to allow this feeling given the experiences with the person sitting across the mirror.  
John hesitated swallowing twice before saying “We need to discuss where we put him and how we do that. But first we need damage control.“ With this John left to comfort the terrorist.

“You came back” John needed to smile at the lit up expression on Moriarty’s face.  
“I promised. Didn’t I?” He answered, almost crouching himself next to the man who sat on the chair to avoid towering over him like Sherlock did minutes before.  
“There was a man and he...” Moriarty’s voice cracked but he managed to say “he scared me” before he broke into sobs. John couldn’t resist the upcoming urge to hug him and rub circles on his back.  
“Shhh, don’t be scared. That was a friend of mine, Sherlock. He can be very rude but he can also be nice sometimes. He wanted to protect me this is why he tried to scare you. I promise he won’t do it again.”  
“I want to go home” Moriarty sobbed. John had to admit he didn’t want the man to cry and feel terrible, at least not this part of him. What would they tell him about his home and his family? Probably even Mycroft didn’t know anything about them.  
“I know. Where is your home, Jim?”  
“I don’t know” Moriarty managed to say before his voice cracked and his eyes started to fill with tears again looking and probably feeling lost.  
“We’ll figure something out” not sure if he actually wanted to get more active in Moriarty’s accommodations. Despite all the affection for the boy he was still afraid of the man.  
“Don’t go, please” Moriarty begged   
“Then you will have to come with me. I want to find a solution so you can go home, wherever this might be.”  
“Will Sherlock be there?” John decided it was the best to be honest about this.  
“Yes” Seeing Moriarty hesitated “But he won’t be mean” John looked at the mirror with a demanding look.

Moriarty stayed close to John. When they went to Lestrade, Mycroft and Sherlock.   
“So Jim, these are Greg, Mycroft and you already met Sherlock”  
“Hi” Moriarty managed to say but looked down at his shoes again. He seemed to be nervous and stepped from foot to foot. Just when John wanted to start talking about how they would get Jim a home Sherlock raised his voice.  
“And here comes the flood again.” he simply said.  
Greg was the first one to realize what this must mean. His gaze immediately went to the grey sweatpants Moriarty was wearing, turning a darker shade of grey on the inside as it soaked up the pee. “Oh no” he said feeling that this Moriarty-situation would occupy him for longer than he had wished.  
Moriarty whimpered “I’m sorry” and his thumb finally found his mouth.  
“Not a big deal, James. We’ll clean it up in no time” John said reassuringly.  
“Is this going to be this way as long has he stays ‘regressed’?” Lestrade moaned. John shot him a disapproving look. They didn’t need to get the boy even more insecure.  
“Greg do you have by any chance more spare clothes?” John asked, hoping to resolve the situation as fast as possible.  
“Not sure but I will see what I can get.” Lestrade said, lucky to escape the situation and John lucky to have a few moments without being surrounded by a former soldier who now had a sweet sport for a regressed terrorist, said regressed terrorist and the two Holmes brothers.

“You are likely to need the contents of this bag to take care of him” Mycroft said.  
“What bag?” John asked to which Mycroft handed him a bag that had stand next to him for as it seemed the whole time.   
“What do you mean ‘take care of him’” Sherlock asked  
“As I mentioned before the government is confident that you can control him under these circumstances. There is no governmental institution that would be fit for him. Just feed him properly and give him something to sleep on” Mycroft stated and wasn’t surprised that John stared at him blankly while Sherlock seemed to be happy to have his archenemy around him.   
Since Mycroft’s wording had left no room for discussion John focused on the bag again and was surprised by the items it contained.

“What is all this baby stuff doing in the bag? Nappies, dummies?” John clearly understood that Moriarty has had three accidents by now but that didn’t mean that he needed nappies. Even if the nappies were necessary the dummies clearly were not fit, weren’t they? And why were all the contents adult sized but colourful as for a kid?  
“You could skip the nappies but I wouldn’t recommend it” with this Mycroft left the yard, leaving Sherlock and John behind.

John wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what – the situation was too bizarre.  
“I got another pair of sweatpants but this is definitely the last we have and I couldn’t find any spare undies.” Lestrade managed to say, a little out of breath. He handed the sweatpants directly to Moriarty who pulled his thumb from his mouth to receive them, holding them with a look of overload on his face. This made John aware that James had been standing there silently the whole time while they had discussed him. 

“Don’t worry Greg, we won’t need undies. Come on James, we need to take care of this.” He placed a hand on the lower back of Moriarty leading him back into the interrogation room. He didn’t try to resist the slight pushing but fresh tears started to dwell and the look on Moriarty’s face of embarrassment and resignation was back. “I don’t need a nappy” Moriarty tried to state but with such a shaky voice that it sounded more like pleading. John cursed Moriarty in his mind for still being clever and being able to win this discussion even if he wasn’t right. He didn’t want to have this conversation, at least not with this person and feel the sympathy for him build up again. Therefore, John tried to use his normal doctor’s voice as if he was talking to a difficult patient.  
“I’m pretty sure you know better. Sherlock told be you were even cleverer than I expected.” Moriarty didn’t seem to fall for the praise, John had added to make him more comfortable around the consulting detective. Instead he begged: “No please. It won’t happen again. I promise I’ll be big.”   
“I know you’re big, James but big boys know when they need help with something and you seem to need help with that wetting issue of yours.”  
Moriarty didn’t say anything in response but sniffle at first.   
“You promise you’re not mad?” Moriarty managed to ask before his voice cracked again.  
“Of course I am not mad. Why’d you think that?”  
“Because you called me James”  
“I promise I’m not mad. I just figured it would be nice to call you James from time to time. Now let’s get you out of that wet sweatpants and into something dry.”  
Moriarty looked anxious at the bag that John was holding and then at John himself.  
“I promise I will make it as quick as possible.” John wasn’t eager to put the terrorist in a nappy but given the three accidents the man had had so far and the advice from Mycroft they should probably do it.

Moriarty turned his face to the ceiling when John opened the bag and put out a mat for James to lie on. He avoided looking at John while the latter first pulled down the soaked sweatpants and undies, then demanded Moriarty to lift his hips so he could put the nappy under him before he adjusted the tapes.   
When John was finished and had pulled Moriarty’s pants up he looked in the eyes of the person that had tried to blow him up or at least threatened himself and his best friend he would do it. Instead he saw a little kid that had just been changed, being slightly embarrassed about his accidents and the nappy he needed as a result. “There you go, all nice and clean. That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

Moriarty didn’t say anything in response but took a longing look to the opened bag. John followed his look and saw a package of dummies peeking out of it. He shot him a warm smile as he realized that the terrorist he had known was too afraid to ask for the object now. John grabbed the box, teared it open and pulled out a green and blue dummy and offered it to him.   
Moriarty hesitated almost shying away from the object that he looked at with longing in his eyes. “Come, on Jim. It’s okay.” John tried to reassure and was able to stop Moriarty from backing away.  
Finally he let John slip the dummy in his mouth, his face turning red when he allowed himself to give it some cautious sucks.   
“I need to talk to Sherlock once more. Do you think you will be okay here on your own for some minutes?”  
Moriarty managed to nod and John couldn’t resist telling him “I’m proud of you, Jim.”

“What now and where is Lestrade?” John asked again, feeling they hadn’t really achieved a consensus in the past hours.  
“Lestrade left. We’re going home” Sherlock said simply.   
“With a terrorist in tow?” John still hesitated to trust the person he had just changed in a nappy.   
“If nappy changes will take you this long I understand that you call him a terrorist.”  
“Sherlock!” John snapped.   
“We’ll be under Mycroft’s watch. He told you that there was no reason to be afraid and as irresponsible as he is he takes well calculated risks.” John knew he would never hear ‘I trust Mycroft’ out of Sherlock’s mouth ‘well calculated risks’ was the outmost that Sherlock would say which meant he was almost certain that Moriarty didn’t fake it.   
“You just want to experiment with him” Sherlock didn’t say anything to defend him from John’s accusation. “And what about Mrs. Hudson? We can’t just bring Moriarty to the apartment.”  
“She’ll love it. She is a great grandmother” “She doesn’t even have any children or grandchildren, Sherlock.” Sherlock ignored that objection. “Besides don’t call him Moriarty. He isn’t Moriarty anymore.”   
“Of course he’s still Moriarty.” John snapped. He knew he had a weak spot for the boy in his current state of mind but there was no way of telling when his mind would change again and they would be sharing a flat with a terrorist.  
“I’ve seen the look on your face, John. To you he isn’t Moriarty anymore, despite what you name him when you are surrounded by adults. You see Jim. The moment you went into that room and wiped the tears of that boy’s face you wanted to protect him.”  
“And as you have established that you will understand that I will not allow you to experiment with him.” Sherlock smiled. “Fine. Now get him so we can finally leave this accumulation of people that don’t know what they’re doing.”

John went back to Moriarty. The boy sat at the table again, kicking his legs, again. He had folded his arms on the table, resting his head on those with it tilted towards the door which allowed John to see his face as soon as he opened the door. The dummy made bopping motions as Moriarty sucked on it and John had to admit that this sight made him smile and was utterly cute.  
“Do you want to go home with me and Sherlock, Jim?” John asked. Moriarty managed to smile shyly behind the dummy, nodded and took John’s hand.


End file.
